


going down

by novelteas



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Elevator Sex, M/M, Trapped In Elevator, also i researched the history of elevator maintenance for this fic lmao, and i've finally made myself finish it, ehehe. enjoy, i think these pretty much sum it all up, ok i started this over a month and a half ago when i was on my flight home for spring brak, theres probably a million of other tags i could use for this but honestly i cant be bothered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novelteas/pseuds/novelteas
Summary: Morse and Jakes find themselves in an elevator.
Relationships: Peter Jakes/Endeavour Morse
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	going down

"I can't stand these people," Peter said, pounding his fist over the elevator call button. "They all think they're so much better than everyone else just because they can afford to live in these kinds of flats, and look, what is the _point_ of having an lift if it's all slow like this? Might as well take the stairs like the rest of us commoners." He huffed and glanced over at Morse. "You don't have to just stand there looking like that, Morse. Stop laughing."

Morse wasn't even trying to hide his amusement. "I'm not laughing at you," he said, "but I never thought I'd live to see Peter Jakes call himself a commoner." The elevator doors finally opened, and he stuck his arm out, holding them for Peter. "They really riled you, didn't they?"

"Oh, shut up," said Peter. "You're even worse when you're being all sympathetic sometimes, you know that?" He pressed the button for the lobby, toggling it a few times for good measure.

"You'll break the elevator like that."

Peter glared at him. "Don't even _joke_ about it," he snapped. "It would do some of these stuck-up arseholes good to take the stairs for once."

The elevator shuddered, and Peter glanced over darkly. " _Don't,_ " he said, pressing the lobby button again for good measure. "Don't _even._ " He looked up at the floor display and hit each floor button. "This is ridiculous. Morse, stop looking at me like that. It is _not_ my fault, it's the building maintenance for this damn posh building who apparently can't even keep this elevator working." He stamped his foot childishly. "Morse, you should be just as worried about this!"

"I am, I just don't think getting upset about it is going to help," Morse said, hiding his smile.

"I'm _not_ upset!" Peter rang the alarm bell. "There's not even a phone to reach maintenance. You must be fucking _joking_." He threw himself against the wall dramatically next to Morse, then sank down to the floor and huffed. "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm sure maintenance will catch on pretty quickly," said Morse, and he slid down to the floor next to Peter. "We'll wait."

**TEN MINUTES IN**

Peter stood again, then inched back down. "It's been ten minutes," he complained, looking at his watch. "Haven't they figured out that their elevator isn't working?"

"It probably feels like longer because you can't stop fidgeting," Morse quipped.

"Oh, as if you can talk. You haven't stopped clicking your pen. It's driving me insane."

Morse glared up at him and cuffed Peter round the back of his knees. "Sit down."

"Fuck you," Peter said, buckling and landing on the ground. He flicked Morse's ear. "I'll arrest you for assaulting a police officer."

Morse snorted. "I'd like to see you try."

**EIGHTEEN MINUTES IN**

"Think you'll ever have kids?" Peter said suddenly, breaking the silence. Morse glanced over at him. "I suppose you'd have to get married first, wouldn't you, but after that?"

Morse shook his head. "Nah." He tossed his notebook to the side, pen on top. _Stop clicking your pen, my arse_. "Whatever happened to that girl of yours? Hope?"

"Didn't work out," Peter said, shrugging off his jacket. He reached up for his tie and loosened the knot. The elevator was getting stuffy, and he could tell his patience would thin out to nearly nothing if it continued on like this.

Morse hummed. "You're too much of a free spirit," he agreed. "I can't see you settling down with anyone, really."

"Oh, it _takes_ one to _know_ one." 

"I'm not seeing anyone because I can't be bothered to," Morse said carefully. " _You_ aren't seeing anyone because you're afraid you'll lose your freedom, or whatever it is you're worried about when it comes matters of the sort."

"At least I could get some if I wanted," Peter snapped, unable to think of anything else to say. 

Morse wriggled out of his jacket and threw it at Peter. "I never said I wasn't 'getting any,'" he said simply. 

Peter shut up.

**TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES IN**

"It's _so_ fucking hot," Peter groaned. He checked his watch. They'd been in the elevator for at least half an hour, it felt like, with little sign of building maintenance or any of the tenants realizing anything was wrong with the elevator. Even if they _did_ notice, it'd be another thirty minutes, by Peter's estimate.

"You're letting yourself get hot and bothered," Morse said. He'd switched sides, so that he and Peter were facing each other now, legs stretched out in front of each other. His head was tipped back against the elevator wall and he exhaled slowly, eyes half-closed, as if meditating or on the verge of falling asleep. 

"Are you seriously falling asleep right now?" Peter asked incredulously, gently kicking Morse in the shin. 

"No," Morse mumbled, in a way that sounded very much like he was falling asleep.

"Oh, you've _got_ to be joking."

Morse opened his eyes and sat up a little straighter. "You said so yourself. It's hot." He brushed the back of his hand along his forehead, where Peter could see sweat beading at the hairline, and sighed. "And we're not exactly doing anything thought-provoking."

Peter drank in the sight of Morse in front of him, collar half-unbuttoned, sweat glistening thinly along the curve of his upper lip, one hand dug halfway into his hair to keep it from falling back across his face. He was briefly reminded of the time he'd lent Morse one of his shirts, back when they'd first started working together on that opera killer, and how he'd watched with oddly insatiable fascination as Morse had undone his shirt. He inhaled sharply now, feeling the same rush of adrenaline, as Morse threw his head back again and tugged as his collar, baring his throat. 

"That's indecent," Peter said, when he finally snapped out of his trance. 

Morse looked at him sharply, then snorted. "Pervert."

"You ought to know what it looks like."

"Piss off," Morse said, but he was laughing. 

Emboldened by Morse's smile, Peter crawled forward on his hands and knees until he could straddle Morse. "Make me," he said. He caught the shock registering on Morse's face, feeling the rush of excitement as the surprise softened into curiosity and then back into alarm.

"Peter! What are you playing at — _we're in an elevator!_ "

"That's not going anywhere," Peter finished, "and that's stuck in-between floors," he undid the next button on Morse's shirt, freeing his throat and exposing his collarbone, "and we've nothing _else_ better to do."

Morse groaned, low and strained, as Peter pressed the first kiss to the join between his neck and jaw. "Peter," he gasped, pressing his hand against Peter's chest. "We can't be doing this."

"Tell me to stop, then," Peter said, grinning wickedly. He cupped Morse's cheek with one hand and tipped his face up, nipping at the flesh at the base of Morse's jaw. His fingers hovered over Morse's lips, waiting for a protest. "Thought so," he snickered, when it didn't come.

"Don't stop," Morse agreed breathlessly, as Peter raked his teeth along his collarbone. His hand dragged down from Peter's chest to his crotch; Peter inhaled sharply.

"Wasn't going to," Peter murmured against his throat. He pressed his fingers against Morse's lips, harder this time, dipping into his mouth, fighting to keep quiet when he started sucking, tongue hot and wet. He sat back on his heels for a moment to watch as Morse reached a hand up to his wrist, pulling his fingers out slowly, staring the whole time. 

"This isn't going to help the temperature," Morse said, letting go of Peter's hand.

"I know," Peter said, unable to break eye contact as he undid Morse's belt.

Morse whimpered — _actually fucking whimpered_ — as Peter cupped his balls suddenly, grinning like a devil. "Just making sure you knew," he choked out, watching helplessly as Peter pulled down his pants and lowered his head.

They'd done this a few times before, over the course of the last month or so. The first time — in the last stall in the bathroom at the pub — had been an accident. They'd just finished a case, gone out, exhausted, and gotten drunk, and Morse had come out of the stall to find himself face-to-face with an _extremely_ drunk Peter. His face had felt hot, Peter had stepped just a few inches closer, and suddenly they were pushing each other against the stall door, panting over each others' shoulders, desperate and unhinged. Then there had been the time they had pulled two nights at the station in a row together, working on a kidnapping, and Thursday had told the two of them to go home and get some rest, he and Strange had it under control. And they'd walked home even though Morse's flat was in the opposite direction until they were in front of Peter's, and they'd wordlessly gone in together. It was never planned, just a dirty secret they kept to themselves and didn't talk about the next day, even though Thursday had given them an odd look on a few occasions and Strange had remarked on their weirdly reticent behavior towards each other. Peter liked it that way, it added to the fun of it, the wild sinfulness of getting fucked by an Oxford-educated colleague, the satisfaction of watching Morse asking questions and postulating so seriously when Peter knew they were both thinking about how he'd been balls-deep in his mouth the night before.

Morse groaned again when Peter began sucking, his hands falling to his side, legs trembling with how much he _needed_ this, how much he needed to feel the slick, wet warmth of Peter's mouth on him. He moved a hand to the back of Peter's head, pushing his fingers into his hair.

"Mind the hair," Peter said, pulling away so he could speak properly. He brought a hand up to his mouth, wiping off a string of thick saliva on the back of it. "Don't particularly want to get anything dirty right now."

"Shut up about your hair," Morse muttered, his back arching to match every motion from Peter. His fingers scrabbled against the tightly woven carpeting of the elevator, looking for a handhold.

Peter swirled his tongue and looked up at Morse through his lashes, reaching over to take his hand in one of his own. He sat back on his heels and then twisted around, settling next to Morse again.

"Don't stop."

"I wasn't going to," he said, taking Morse's dick in his free hand and tugging gently. "But maybe I should."

"If you stop, I swear I will annoy you with _so many_ theories. You _will_ be sorry, you'll regret it, mark my words," Morse threatened.

"You've been annoying me with theories for years," Peter said, stopping his light stroking and eliciting another heavy exhale from Morse. "That's hardly a threat." He leaned in closer, wrapped his fingers around Morse's prick tighter, brought Morse's fingers to his lips and took them into his mouth, sucking lightly on his fingertips, teasing, promising more. Morse felt Peter's lips tickling the crest of his ear, disturbing the unruly hair, wicked smiles riding on every word. "Maybe I _should_ stop," Peter was whispering, his thumb barely brushing against the tip of Morse's dick. "Maybe I should just let go right now, and watch you try to get off, and watch while you think about how much you need this for the _rest of the day_." He opened his mouth again, this time taking all of Morse's fingers in, sucking hard.

Morse threw his head back against the elevator wall. _God_ , he was going to make the dirty arrogant prick pay. There was no way they weren't going home together tonight, he thought. _Especially_ if Peter stopped now. "Peter, _please._ "

"You _are_ right," Peter mused, dropping his hand and continuing to stroke casually, lightly, like there was nothing to worry about, like they weren't just sitting on the floor of a lift, shirts half undone. "We're in a lift, Morse. Someone could realize it needs fixing at any moment," a forceful tug, purposeful rubbing at the tip, "and they'd find us." He spat on his hand and returned to the gentle stroking. "Imagine what that looks like." He crawled back around, settling between Morse's legs again, drinking in the sight of him like a painting. "Imagine what it looks like, Morse."

"I know," Morse stuttered, reaching his hand down to help.

Peter swatted it away. "You know, do you?" he said, leaning forward and taking Morse back into his mouth, making the most obscene noises. "You know what you look like, with your tie pulled off and your shirt half open?" He pulled away, leaving just a kiss at the tip. "Covered in sweat like this?" Peter dug his nails into Morse's thighs, pressed his tongue against his dick again and again. "Lying here, unable to do anything — ," he took him back in all the way, hot and wet, wishing he'd thought to undo and roll up his sleeves, " — an actual police officer, an officer of the law, a _strong_ and _principled man_ — ," and here Morse cried out, hand making its way to the back of Peter's head again, not caring what Peter said about _getting dirty_ , " — getting his cock sucked by another sergeant?"

Peter lifted his head, just for another good look at Morse, whose eyes were screwed shut, lips parted, panting, on the verge of crying out, before he returned to his ministrations. "You know what it looks like, Morse, don't you?"

Morse shuddered and pulled away instinctively while Peter held him by the thighs and continued, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, lips slick with spit and cum. "I know," Morse gasped helplessly, "I know what it looks like."

"Yeah," said Peter, licking his lips, moving forward until his mouth was inches from Morse's. "It's fucking filthy."

**FIFTY-ONE MINUTES IN**

"It's finally moving," Morse remarked. His voice still shook the tiniest bit with the effort to stay steady.

The doors opened with a <i>ding</i>. Strange stood in front of them, looking down at them like a teacher looking at a few small children. "You alright, matey?" he said, staring at the two of them as if they were stupid for sitting in an elevator that had been stuck in place for nearly an hour.

"Fine," Peter said, standing and brushing off his pants. "Took you long enough." He held a hand out to Morse, helping him up.

"Yeah, well," Strange shrugged and threw an arm across the doors, gesturing for them to leave, "I think Thursday and Mr. Bright assumed you two were dead, until the doorman mentioned the lift hadn't been working. It's not like the two of you to take so long returning from a simple inquiry."

"No," Peter agreed.

"I need the washroom," Morse announced. "You go on ahead back to the station. Peter and I will follow." Strange looked at the two of them curiously. "It's — it was quite hot. Just need to wash up."

Strange gave them another of his scrutinous glances, but apparently finding nothing to be suspicious about, nodded simply. "We'll see you back at the station, then."

Morse waited until Strange had gotten in his car and sped off, then started towards his, trailing Peter and quietly placing his hand on the small of his back, holding him in place against the car door. He leaned forward until his lips were practically touching Peter's ear. "We'll see what's 'fucking filthy' when I've got you bent over that table in your flat tonight." 

**Author's Note:**

> ooooook so i havent written smut in probably like YEARS so dont come for me lol
> 
> that said. hope ur standards were low enough to enjoy. lmk ur thoughts if u so desire. thought about making it dirtier but felt weird going from not having written smut for years straight to filthy kinky sex, or whatever. so. another time lol
> 
> hope you're all doing ok and staying safe. thanks for reading, love u all. -iv


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